


Do Drivers Licenses Exist In The Apocalypse

by Hino



Category: Half-Life
Genre: Also because the driving controls in the HL games are so bad oh god, An idea that got away from me, Gen, I crash all the god damn time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:13:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25568032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hino/pseuds/Hino
Summary: Gordon Freeman is given access to the Mudskipper and told to go to Black Mesa East.Gordon Freeman cannot drive.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 97





	Do Drivers Licenses Exist In The Apocalypse

Gordon Freeman was a Scientist. He still is, if Doctorates mean anything in this new world. Hell, theoretical physics might have changed during his twenty year absence, but it's not like he's got the time to look into it. After all, he's busy being the "Free Man", the one to take down the Combine and end their reign over Earth.

Still, Gordon would like ten minutes to sit down with Doctor Kleiner and ask him if the Resonance Cascade changed the fabric of reality in any cool ways.

Their teleporter malfunctioning due to Lamarr is an annoyance that gets the Combine on his tail, but that's not what annoys Gordon the most. He's unfortunately grown used to being shot at, either by humans or otherwise, and he's learned to shoot back against them, aiming for vitals and explosives in the area.

No, it's not the running for his life part that's annoying, but the fact that he arrives at a small Resistance base and is told to get on an airboat. He's barely got time to even consider asking questions before he's shepherded onto the vehicle, ignition and gear shift being pointed out to him.

"Good luck!" says the Resistance Member and before Gordon can think of arguing, he finds himself turning the key and stepping on the ignition.

In Austria, Gordon had taken a bike. He liked the air, and exploring a new way to the university was always amusing. Even when he'd ended up staying on campus, he'd ended up riding around town just to get his head clear of equations that refused to be solved.

Back in America, he'd taken the Greyhound to get to Black Mesa. His parents had driven him around when he lived at home, and even in the small gap year between studying in Austria and finishing highschool, he'd either walked or hitched a ride with his roommate, who was more than willing to be a chauffeur if Gordon paid for gas.

So it had never occurred to him that he should get a driver's license, or even attempt to learn how a car works.

Driving the boat forward is simple, but turning is where it all falls apart. There is no traction like on pavement, and Gordon sways as the boat threatens to capsize.

He corrects it quickly, but overcompensates. It sways in the other direction and he barely manages to fix himself up before he's needing to get out and open a gate. Turning the boat off takes a moment and he silently wishes he had an instruction manual as he looks at the gears, wondering what he should leave it in.

Fourth is alright, isn't it?

Apparently fourth isn't right. The engine groans with protest as he tries to start it again. Considering it's a modified car engine and he'd once gone go-karting with friends, he's sure that he should be able to operate it.

Still, Gordon takes his sweet fucking time working out how to shift back into first gear, and earns a horrendous screeching that's sure to attract the Combine to him immediately for his efforts.

He sighs, gripping the wheel again. It's going to be a long drive.

By the time Gordon's made it to the pitstop where the Resistance are eagerly waiting to weld a gun onto his boat, he's almost capsized seven times, flipped the boat four times, fallen out after a sharp turn twice (at which point he'd become overly cautious about turning), and gotten stuck once, requiring him to leave the boat and heave it off whatever debris had been sticking out of the river.

"You're Gordon Freeman!" exclaims a Resistance Member as the boat glides around the corner. Gordon proceeds to try and brake, failing to account for the fact water doesn't exactly have a lot of traction. The boat slams into the metal gate and everyone in earshot winces at the loud 'thump' that comes from a 30 mph boat crashing into it.

There's a silence as both Gordon and the Resistance Member's ears ring. "Gordon Freeman?" they try again hesitantly.

Gordon just nods in defeat. Yup. It's him.

It feels like the walk of shame as Gordon leaves his boat. He can hear the vortigaunt behind him muttering to another Resistance Member about dents, and as the plans for how to reach Eli are explained, Gordon can only think about how much more trouble he's going to get into on that boat.

And the feeling doesn't abate as he's walked back to the mudskipper, now with a large gun welded on the front. Gordon knows how to fire pistols and other things; point and hold the trigger as he's learned. But driving and shooting? Driving and firing what's essentially a mounted turret on his boat?

Gordon knows that there's no God, but he still does pray as he settles back into the hard plastic seat.

Hell, even if that suit-wearing prick showed up right now and put him in a stasis room with some driver's ed videos, he'd appreciate it.

"The Freeman may need assistance. Turn the ignition key, and place the boat into drive."

Even the Vortigaunt notices. Gordon sighs, turning the key and listening to the boat gently rumble. The gearbox screeches as he switches, forgetting to hit the clutch. All three of his onlookers cringe at the sound, and Gordon's face turns red as he struggles to get the boat into the right gear.

The Resistance Member he'd spoken to about Black Mesa East offers a half-hearted smile. "The uh, the gun's simpler than the boat."

Gordon nods and fires a test shot into the water, taking to the weapon far better than he had the boat. He gives a thumbs up, and the Vortigaunt opens the small gate that closed the encampment from the rest of the sewer. "We wish The Freeman luck."

Pressing down on the accelerator, Gordon proceeded to immediately ram the boat into a support beam for the gate.

"...Perhaps we will wish The Freeman more luck," the Vortigaunt comments.


End file.
